Realisation
by cruciomysoul
Summary: "my waking thoughts being plagued by visions that I know aren't real, yet I'm still scared of them." Set after the Victory Tour in Catching Fire, but before the Quell announcement. Katniss realises one important detail in life. Chapter 2 is the sequel.
1. Chapter 1

**I'm dedicating this to Joss, because I love her, she's amazing :3**

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><p>I've been walking around the dark streets of the Seam for hours on end. It's night, it's raining and the cold wind lashes at my face. I'm damp to the bone, my thin clothing sticks to me like it did on the wound of the burn.<p>

The burns. The fire. The arena. The death. It's all too much for one girl to handle. And I find myself not handling it. Because I can't. There are so many things now that scare me to death, when once, they would have been my paradise.

Like hunting in the woods. With Gale. Shouting profanity deep into the thickness of the trees, where no one can hear. But they can hear. I'm sure of it. And it frightens me, because if they can hear me, then they can hear Gale. And his punishment would be far worse than mine. So I don't do it. I hunt still, I have to, but I don't venture too far. I can't bring myself to, and Gale doesn't understand why. I don't expect him to. I don't expect anyone too, except maybe Peeta or Haymitch. They know what I've been through. Haymitch more so.

Haymitch.

I'm turning into him, I'm sure of it. The early stages. Walking around instead of sleeping. Panicking at the thought of spending time alone in the dark. Seeing things that aren't really there; my waking thoughts being plagued by visions that I know aren't real, yet I'm still scared of them. The nights, well, the nights are unbearable. I gave up on the prospect of sleep long, long ago. I've woken up screaming far too many times for my liking. I've definately woken Prim up with my sobbing and screams, and I wouldn't be at all surprised if I had woken up Peeta and his family. It won't be long before I turn to alcohol. Before I'm spending night after night with Haymitch, drinking, just forgetting everything. Ruining my body with the poison he so lusts after. It seems like an easy way to cope. An escape route. We'll be partners, falling off the stage together, known as the drunken mentors of District 12. The laughing stock of Panem.

I'm passing Gale's house now, and my mind travels back to the day in the woods. The day he kissed me. The day he told me he loved me. The day I was so confused that I spent all night thinking about his words, the lingering feeling of his lips on mine. The kiss had felt good, but it wasn't what I was expecting. I mean, I loved him too. I still do. But not the way he wants. And he knows that, he knows he will always only be my best friend, the person I go to when there's no one else.

But I haven't been to him since.

And I'm not sure why.

There's no lights on in his house. Total darkness. In fact, it looks completely empty. But I know it isn't. I know in the third bedroom to the left on the second floor is two sleeping teenage boys. And in the room next to them, their mother and a third son. But no father. No, there's no father for this family. Not any more. Just like there isn't for mine.

I've walked through the Seam now. My feet are continuing forth, through the village square, past the Hob. Past the bakers, the butchers, and the Justice Hall. Past the building where it all began, where it all ended. Soon I'm crossing the green that leads to Victor's Village. My new home. Only, it doesn't feel like home.

Except I walk past my house. I walk past Haymitch's house too. Because I have realised something while walking through the Seam. No, if I'm honest I realised this the day Gale kissed me, but I'm only just acting upon it. I stand in front of the one house where he lives. Where the boy with the bread lives. What am I going to do? Knock on his door, wake up that witch of a mother at this unGodly hour? No, I am most definitely not going to do that. I make my way around to his backyard and fumble with the lock on his gate. It's a simple lock, but my hands are so numb from the cold that it takes me a while to undo it. I open the gate, walk in and look up at the back of his house. It's exactly the same as mine, albeit he has a tree. All my house has is ivy. I know which room is his. It's the only one with the light still turned on. He doesn't like sleeping in the dark either; just like Haymitch and I. But at least he sleeps. I shake my limbs, roll my shoulders and stretch out my legs, readying them for the upward climb.

I climb the tree much faster than I expect myself to and I'm now staring in through the window at Peeta. He doesn't look peaceful, but the nightmare doesn't look terrible. He isn't making any sounds, he's just grimacing. It reminds me of him on the train ride back home to District 12, when I revealed that all I'd done in the arena was pretend, just to keep myself and eventually him, alive. Heart break, that's what it is. I slip my nails through the crack between the window and the ledge and lift it slowly up, thankful it isn't kept locked. It isn't used regularly, either though. I can tell because it's stiff and is making horrible squeaks of complaint. Finally, I get it open enough for me to fit through easily, so I do. And now I'm stood at the edge of his bedroom, staring at a wide eyed Peeta who is now sitting up in bed fully awake and rather shocked.

I shift my feet nervously, looking down. Silence. I'm too afraid to look at him, even more afraid to speak first. So I don't. I think he realises this, because he clears his throat. "Katniss?" I nod and look up swiftly, avoiding his gaze.

"Um, hi." I decide I have to look at him, but I can't, so I train my eyes on the wall behind him.

"It's three A.M." I look at his clock. So it is. "What are you doing here?" He spoke slowly and deliberately, as if I had a learning disability. I don't. Finally, I look at him.

"I need to talk to you." I say,

"Can't it wait until morning?" He asks as I move forward and sit on his bed, crossing my legs. I shake my head.

"No. No it can't." More silence.

"What do you want to talk about?" He eventually says. I take a deep breath and I look down and start to play with the quilt.

"Idon'twanttopretendanymore." I hurry my speech and it blurs into one, so much that he can't even understand it and I'm forced to repeat myself.

"I don't want to pretend anymore. Me and you... Us." I peek up at him through my eye lashes, and what I see is what I'd guessed. Anger.

"You don't have a choice. You should have thought about it before you saved me. Do you want me to break up with you in our next interview? Is that it?" His voice is so full of bitter venom that it surprises me. "Do you know what they'll do to us? To our families? To Prim? Gale, even. Or don't you care?"

I'm angry now too, because I know what they'll do. I know exactly what they'll do. And of course I bloody well care. But he isn't getting it. I'm not here to break up with him, but I don't know how to phrase what I want. I doubt he'll even listen to me speak, anyway. So I don't speak. Instead I do the one thing he'll have no choice but to listen to. I grip his shoulders and press my lips against his. It takes him a moment to respond, but before soon he's kissing me back and has pulled me down on top of him, rolled over so we're on our sides. He understands now. I'm not here to break up with him. I think this actually the first kiss we have shared that hasn't been in front of cameras. And, honestly, it feels a lot better.

He pulls away and looks at me, his blue eyes warm as they stare directly into mine. "Katniss..." He begins, but determined to say what I came here to say, I cut across him.

"I don't want to pretend," I whisper, "because I want it to be real." His arms crush me gently against his body, and I find my eyes welling with tears as I bury my face into his shoulder. "I love you." I say softly. This time, I mean it. I'm not pretending anymore. And he knows it.

"I love you, too." He replies. I know he does. He isn't pretending. He hasn't been pretending for eleven years now. I sigh. I should probably go. Back home, back to my cold bed so my mother and Prim don't wake up and find me missing. It worries them, even though they know full well I can take care of myself. I start to untagle myself from him but his arms constrict, holding me tighter, refusing to let me move just an inch. I had forgotten how strong he was. "Just where do you think you're going?" He asks. His voice has changed, it's no longer the soft caress it was earlier, it's now pained and rough.

"Back home, Peeta?" My answer sounds like a question, for I'm confused. Why has become like this? He shakes his head.

"No. You're staying here." It's a command, and when I try to object, he brings a finger to my lips. "I just got you Katniss, I'm not letting you go that easy. Not again. Okay?" All I do is nod and I feel him relax immensley. I rest my head down onto the pillow and he pulls his duvet around us. We stare into each other's eyes for what seems like eternity, until I feel my eye lids droop.

"Peeta..." I mumble, already feeling myself slipping away. He makes a small murmuring sound of acknowledgement, so I continue. "What if you parents wake and find me here?" By parents, I mean his mother. I'm sure his father won't be too bothered about it. He likes me. I hear him chuckle lowly.

"That's their problem. We're engaged now, so it shouldn't be that much of a surprise. Besides, this isn't the first time we've slept together." His voice has gone back to the soft carass that it was earlier and he places a kiss on my forehead. "Sleep now, love."

As my eyes succumb completely to the darkness, ready for the first night with him since the Victory Tour, two thoughts run through my mind:

Peeta doesn't want to the lose the girl on fire.

I don't want to lose the boy with the bread.


	2. Toasting

**I decided to do a sequel to Realisation with this, Chapter 2, called Toasting. There probably won't be any other installments unless you can convince me otherwise! Also, sorry that it swaps point of view halfway, it's just that I prefer to write in Katniss' point of view, yet there are some aspects (the beginning) that are better told from Peeta's POV, as it adds more depth.**

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><p>"So?" I say, sitting on the edge of my seat in nervous anticipation, awaiting Haymitch's verdict.<p>

"So what?" He grunts, looking at me with his eyelids drooped. Had he not just been listening to a word I said? I groan internally; I was in no way going to repeat myself to this man. It was bad enough saying it the first time, when I _thought_ I had his attention.

"So what do you think? Of my idea?"

"Of your idea?"

"Yes." It sickens me how drunk this guy gets, but there's nothing I can do about that except put up with it the best I can.

"Hmm." He swirls the crimson liquid around in his wine glass, staring at it speculatively. It appears that he has no idea what idea I'm referring to. Aloud I sigh and stand up.

"Never mind. Thanks for the help." I turn and walk, just as I reach the door leading to his hallway his voice calls out to me.

"Wait." I pause and turn my head slightly, to show I'm giving him the attention he should have at least tried to give me. But no, he was too busy drowning in his own miseries and seeking solitude with his precious bottle of liquor. "I like your idea." My head, along with the rest of my body, fully rotates to face him. He's smirking at me.

"You do?" Even I can detect the hope in my voice. He nods and a grin takes over my face. He laughs and motions to the rest of the bottle of wine that stands on his table. I consider his offer briefly before deciding that one celebratory glass can't hurt. I retake my seat and pour myself a glass, clinking it with his before downing it.

I only have one glass though, for I have stage 2 of my plan to proceed with now. I say my goodbye and head over to the house next door, to the house of the Girl On Fire.

Her younger sister Primrose answers the door when I knock. "Peeta!" She exclaims, and I can see features of both her mother and Katniss in her face, along with characteristics I presume belonged to her father.

"Hello Prim." I greet, flashing her a smile. She smiles back sweetly.

"Come in." She opens the door wider and lets me through, closing it behind. "Katniss is still asleep." She rolls her eyes. "She was out late hunting, but I can go and wake her if you'd like." I shake my head, I'm perfectly fine with her staying asleep.

"That won't be necessary. I actually came over here to talk to you, and your mother. Is she here?" Prim frowns before nodding, and I can see the confusion deep in her eyes. She leads me into the kitchen where Mrs. Everdeen is sat at the table, stroking one of the ugliest cats I have seen. Buttercup, I think is what Katniss has called it during their 'disagreements'. She says the only reason she doesn't drown the thing is because Prim loves it so much. I can't blame her really; she'd doing anything for Prim.

"Peeta," Her mother greets. "It's lovely to see you."

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><p>I stand on the other side of her front door, going over the last few details with Prim. The enthusiasm is clear in my voice.<p>

"So you have to keep this a secret, understand?" She nods, her head bobbing up and down a hundred miles an hour.

"I won't say a word. Your secret surprise is safe with me." She mimes locking her lips and then throwing away the key, so I ruffle her hair.

"Good. Remember what you have to do, too. Thank you."

"Yes, make her look pretty and don't let her cotton on to what I'm doing it for. And I'm glad. Here," She hands me the key, wrapped up in an old deer skin. "Good luck, Peeta. I'm sure it'll be fine."

"I hope so." _I sure hope so._ "Thanks again!" I say before turning away and heading down the road, out of Victor's Village and towards the Seam.

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><p><strong>(Katniss POV)<strong>

I descend the staircase slowly and quietly, ensuring that whoever my sister just shut the door on is indeed on the outside of the house and not the inside. It would not look good if I came down the stairs to a Capitol official in my pajamas. "Who was that?" I ask, making Prim jump. She turns to face me, smiling brightly. I look at her curiously.

"No one important." She says dismissively, "Come on, mum's cooked you some breakfast." As she turns away, I catch a glimpse of something in her eye... anticipation? But what is she waiting for? Puzzled, I follow quietly and eat my breakfast, all the while casting glances at her every now and then to see if her face portrays anymore signs of secrets being hidden. It doesn't.

After I finish my breakfast, I realize it was more like lunch. The clock on the fireplace reads half past 12. Gale would be at work right now, and Peeta's probably helping his mother out in the bakery. _Peeta_. It's been almost 3 months since that night I climbed into his window and told him I loved him. It's been almost 3 months of pure happiness with him. I can't say our relationship has been flawless, as we've had a few quarrels, but they're mainly my fault. And he's always forgiven me, and I can honestly say I love him more now than I did when I first realized it.

I flick through the channels on the TV, not really paying it any attention. There's hardly ever anything good on, let alone stuff I enjoy watching. Sighing, and desperately running out of things to do, I go upstairs and take a nice, long hot shower. The waters refreshing as it cascades down my body.

When I step back into my bedroom, clad in my dressing gown, Prim is stood there, a smile on her lips. "Can I plait your hair? Please?" She asks. "Mum's been teaching me how to do it in the style she does; the way you always had it in the Games." The games. I gulp and have to work hard to fend off the shiver that comes with the mention of those repulsing memories. I try to turn the already forming grimace into a smile and nod,

"Of course you can, Prim." I sit on the edge of my bed and she kneels behind me, brush in hand, setting to work.

It takes her a while to do my hair, and it's almost completely dry by the time she's finished. She had done it rather perfectly quite a few times, but she kept insisting there were errors that I just couldn't see, in fact I'm pretty sure they didn't even exist. She takes me to the mirror. "What do you think?" She asks, smiling brightly.

I smile as I see it. "It's lovely. far better than what I could have done, thanks Prim." She grins,

"I'll leave you to get dressed now." I hear her footsteps and seemingly dance merrily down the stairs.

Opening my wardrobe, it's filled with nothing but dresses. I cringe and move over to the draws, hoping there's some trousers and shirts in them to wear. Nothing. There mostly empty, save for a few pajamas and skirts. I sigh, a dress it is then. Great.

The only good thing about these dresses is that 'I' designed them, with I being Cinna. So really, Cinna designed them and of course they're beautiful. They're just not what I'd normally wear. I settle on a pale orange dress that stops just above my knees. It's the most modest of the choices, and will do for just lounging around the house. It's not like I'm going anywhere.

The afternoon passes dully, and at about 4, I decide to head out. A dress isn't hunting apparel, but maybe I can just go for a stroll around the village. I reach the door when a shrill voice stops me. It's my mother.

"Katniss!" I turn to look at her, paranoid. Is something wrong? Has something happened? "Where are you going?" She asks.

"Er, out?" She shakes her head and walks towards me, grabbing my hand and pulling me back towards the kitchen.

"You can't go out." What? Hold up, since when has she had a chance to say what I can or can't do? She gave up that privilege when she left us.

"And why ever not?" I ask, pulling my hand free from her grasp.

"Because you'll ruin the dress!" Why should I care about that?

"So?" I ask. She sighs, exasperated.

"_So_, Cinna worked hard on that for you, so you should at least look after it. He only does it for you. Here," She hands me the telephone. "Give him a call if you want something to do."

I take the phone, grumbling, and dial his number. We chat for ages about anything and everything, right from discussing the details of the dress I'm wearing to what ridiculous drunken situation Haymitch has gotten himself into again. When he has to go and finish his work, I say goodbye with the promise to ring him again the next couple of days. I wish I could visit him, but I know that probably won't be a good thing to do.

There's a knock on the door. Since my mother and Prim have virtually disappeared, I call out to no one in particular; "I'll get it." I walk the few steps to the door and fling it open, wondering who our visitor is. It's Peeta, and my face instantly lights up. "Peeta!" I say, throwing my arms around his neck. He laughs,

"Hey Katniss." He pulls back and holds me at arm's length, looking me up and down. "I like your dress. It looks lovely on you. You look lovely." Oh right, orange is Peeta's favourite colour. I blush, I'm still not used to him actually meaning his so many compliments. I give him a peck on the cheek for thanks. He pouts. "Not on the lips?" I laugh and shake my head.

"Not yet. What are you doing here, anyway?" His face takes on a look of mock hurt.

"What, aren't I allowed to visit my own girlfriend whenever I like?"

"No, I mean of course you can, it's just a surprise, that's all." He grins.

"Come on, get your jacket. We're going on a date." I look at him, confused for a moment, before grabbing my jacket and slipping on the closest pair of flats to the door. Before I have a chance to call goodbye to my mother and Prim, he grabs my hand and pulls me out of the house, shutting my door behind me.

"Hey!" I protest. He just spins me around and covers my eyes with fabric. "Peeta what are you doing?" I ask, my voice getting a bit higher. What on earth is he doing?

"Relax. It's just a blindfold. I have a surprise for you." I grimace, I'm not that fond of surprises. He puts his hands on my shoulders and propels me towards an unknown destination.

Having the blindfold on makes walking a tad difficult. I stumble a few times and Peeta offers to carry me, which I graciously decline. I'd rather walk than be carried. The ground beneath my feet changes a lot. At first it's the solid concrete of well-preserved streets, then it's mushy and soil like, and finally a soft tread that feels so familiar that it's like a second - no, first - home. It feels like the ground of the Seam. "Peeta, where are we?" I ask for what feels like the hundredth time. I feel his warm breath against my neck as he chuckles.

"Have patience, Katniss." He mumbles. "We're almost there." I huff and obediently pretend that I do indeed have patience. He halts me further on down the road. I hear a door open and he ushers me inside. It's warm in here, and the smell is very familiar. Just like the floor. I frown. Where are we? I hadn't realized I said my question out loud until he answered simply with "Home." Home? What does he mean, home?

He takes the blindfold off and I blink a couple of times, taking in the scene. We're in a house. My house, back in the Seam. I look at him, confused. "What are we doing here?" He doesn't answer, and simply walks towards the small living space. I notice all the furniture has either been taken out our pushed aside. "Peeta," I say slowly, "What's going on?" He's looking at the floor. I fold my arms over my chest, waiting.

"I- Look, well- I know our relationship hasn't been exactly perfect. And there's been a few quarrels and disagreements, but," He takes a deep breath and looks up at me, directly in the eye. "I love you Katniss. I love you so much and I want you to be mine, forever." The hard mask my face was wearing slowly melts into a smile. It disappears when I see smoke rising behind him. I push him past him and look down at a small fire in the middle of my house in the Seam. I'm about to ask what it's about, when I see the basket conveniently placed next to it. A basket filled with bread. I turn back to face Peeta.

"You want to do a toasting?" I question, to make sure that is indeed what he wants. He nods.

"Yes. With you." He sees something in my face; I'm not exactly sure what as I'm having a bit of trouble with rendering my thoughts, let alone focusing my facial features, that makes him start explaining rapidly. "I'm sorry. I know it's a bit fast and it's only been a few months. I mean, we don't have to do it if you don't want to, this has all just felt so _real_ and so_ right _that I wanted to-" I stop paying attention to his voice and rush forward, wrapping my arms around his neck and placing a very passionate kiss on his lips. He tumbles backwards in surprise and we land on the floor, me on top of him, laughing.

"Sorry." I breathe between kisses.

"So you'll do it?" He asks and I nod, placing one last kiss on his lips before sitting up.

"Yes." A smile so wide and full of happiness spreads across his face. "I love you, Peeta." I say, putting my hand in his and turning us towards the fire.

"I love you too, Katniss." He places a kiss on the top of my head. He reaches into the basket and pulls out a loaf of bread, along with two wooden kebab skewers. Together, we break the bread and each put half the loaf on our sticks. I lean into his chest and watch the flames lick at the bread.


End file.
